


Marks of Affection

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 03:08:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11431887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: A sequel to Chapter 43 of my Soulmate Collection, the one where you have a tattoo somewhere on your body representing what your soulmate is passionate about.





	Marks of Affection

**Author's Note:**

> A giant thank you to MousesizeDragon for inspiring one of the scenes and giving me permission to include it
> 
> And a ginormous thank you to redhothollyberries for her incredible artwork included below! Click on it to visit Holly's tumblr for more art and stories!

Madara was thankful every day that he had opened his big mouth – and that wasn’t something he ever thought he’d say. When he had approached Tobirama about the fact that they might be soulmates he had told the other man he looked forward to them getting to know each other better and he had not regretted it once. The more he learned about his soulmate the more he believed that Lady Fate really did know what she was doing.

They spent quite a bit of their free time training together. He had insisted that Tobirama continue teaching him to use a simple water jutsu and in return had taught the younger man a small fire jutsu. He was still a little sore that Tobirama had picked it up much faster than he had and was able to create small fireballs in under two weeks. He himself was still unable to draw water from his surroundings even now four months later, relying instead on there being an open body of water nearby in order for the jutsu to answer his call. Yet at the same time he was filled with a strange pride every time he watched Tobirama breathe fire, as happy as if it were his own accomplishment.

Their training came in particularly useful today, here in the middle of the forest only a few hours from the village. Hashirama had entrusted him with a diplomatic message to one of the clans they were hoping would emigrate and join their peaceful gathering. Since many in the village still felt uncomfortable with him he had only brought along his own clansmen as an entourage. When they encountered a hostile group of shinobi hoping to intercept them on the return journey things had turned in to a battle very quickly, made more difficult when he realized that the four enemies they were facing were all using jutsu similar to his own clan. They were quite literally fighting fire with fire and neither side could gain an advantage.

That is, until he realized they were fighting right on top of a river and he was a little dumb for forgetting that he was probably the only one here who could _use_ this advantage. He smirked to himself as he ducked under a large stream of fire and let his chakra seep out underneath his feet.

When he charged forward he brought the river with him, raising as large a wave as he could and bringing it crashing down on the heads of his opponents. Their jutsu sputtered out and huge puffs of steam boiled up around them. The Uchiha with their Sharingan were able to see through the steam perfectly fine and the battle came to a swift end as they dashed in to strike through the confusion of their enemies. Madara grinned to himself as the vapor dissipated, leaving behind only corpses that were slowly sinking beneath the river. When he turned to make sure the rest of his kin were uninjured he was met with three incredulous stares. His expression was smug as he gazed back at them innocently.

“What?” he asked.

“Since when do you know _water jutsu_?” one of them demanded.

“I am a man of many talents,” was all he said, nose stuck pompously in the air. With that he turned and leapt away, continuing towards home. His teammates could be heard muttering in surprise as they followed in his wake and he laughed privately to himself. He was very likely the only Uchiha who had ever learned a water jutsu. It was directly against most of their elemental natures and the ones who _could_ have learned them didn’t because of pride. They were a clan of fire breathing hot heads. Pride was behind many of their issues.

Madara ignored the strange looks directed at his back for the most part until they were close enough to the village that they had begun to catch glimpses through the trees. It was at that point that a chance flicker of his eyes toward the forest floor revealed a pleasant surprise. Not a surprise for him but one that he would be happy to bring to another.

His teammates stopped with him as he dropped to the forest floor without a word and reached for the bush that he had found. They gathered at his side, peering around him curiously until he had half filled the little baggie he’d been carrying in his pocket. Hashirama did have a few good ideas once in a while and having these little bags ready just in case happened to be one of them.

“Ah, Madara-sama?” one of his kin, Setsuna, ventured hesitantly. “Blueberries?”

“Was there a question about the blueberries you wished to ask or were you merely questioning their existence?” He didn’t even look up from his task as he snarked back. Someone else smothered their laughter.

“Why are you gathering them?” Setsuna clarified, grinding his teeth in irritation. He was a hotheaded adolescent who had never dealt well with his elder’s sass.

Madara smiled gently to himself. “They’re for my soulmate. If I’m to wear an image of blueberries on my skin for the rest of my life then I suppose I’m going to stop and harvest every bush I see.” He paused, closing up his little bag. “I feel compelled to.”

“Wait, your soul mark is a blueberry?” one of the other’s piped up. Madara turned to give them a deceptively mild grin.

“A cluster of them, yes.”

“Have you asked what they represent?”

“Represent?” he said. “They represent nothing. He’s simply very passionate about blueberries. He _adores_ them.” He stood and tucked his treasures away, resuming the journey home at a leisurely stroll.

He could hear a second round of smothered laughter and ignored it. When the other three finally followed after him he heard them arguing quietly amongst themselves and waited patiently. Eventually they voted for Setsuna to speak up again.

“Just to clarify, Madara-sama, your soul mark is a cluster of blueberries? That’s the thing they are most passionate about?” Setsuna waved his hands around in a vaguely disconcerted manner. “Not – not their family or the village or their clan. Not even battle or revenge but _blueberries_!?” He sounded almost offended and it was understandable why. The Uchiha were a passionate, caring clan no matter what the rumors said about them. When they loved, they loved deeply. The idea that someone would love blueberries more than their own kin was incomprehensible.

“Hmm at least it’s straight forward,” Madara mused as the village gates came in to view. “Unlike the other thirteen. Some of them are downright abstract and he has yet to explain them.” He heard several choking noises and the stuttering footsteps of someone who had stumbled in shock. His smirk was sharp when Setsuna exploded.

“ _Fourteen_!? You have fourteen soul marks!? Who on earth would – who _is_ your soulmate Madara-sama?”

Almost as if the gods themselves were watching and waiting for the perfect comedic opportunity, Madara spotted a head of white hair waiting just inside the gates. He stood with both feet firmly planted shoulder width apart, arms crossed against his chest and chin held high in that stubborn stance he took so often. His soulmate stood in profile to him, glaring at the chūnin who had been unlucky enough to pull gate duty for the day and clearly giving him a dressing down for something. Madara sighed contentedly.

“Senju Tobirama,” he answered in an off-hand manner. The sound of Setsuna’s footsteps came to a stop and he could almost feel the whoosh of air as the man’s jaw dropped from his face to roll about in the dirt. He ignored it however. Tobirama broke off mid-lecture as Madara drew close, turning to look at him with his brows still furrowed.

“You’re late,” he growled. Even as he said it the anger was melting away, the furrow shallowing and the tension in his jaw lessening until all that was left was a blank face which belied the welcoming light in his eyes.

“Don’t be grumpy,” was all Madara said in return. Tobirama harrumphed and fell into step beside him, abandoning whatever issue he had been ranting about. The chūnin looked as if he might weep with relief, scrambling to grab up the dossier of files that was sitting on a wooden table close to him and leaf through it. Madara assumed that they had something to do with whatever had annoyed his soulmate but he thought the better of bringing it up. He had been gone for several days; he didn’t want their first conversation to be ruined by irritation.

Instead he amused Tobirama by recounting the water jutsu he had successfully pulled off during battle, perhaps exaggerating a tiny bit to make the wave sound just a smidgeon larger than it actually had been. The white-haired man rewarded him with a small grin that to an onlooker might seem indulgent. Madara knew him well by now, though; he could read the quiet pride in that expression. He reveled in it. It swelled his head and puffed out his chest until he felt the weariness of his journey sliding off his shoulders. He waited until his three clansmen had collected themselves enough to catch up, trying not to be obvious about how closely they were watching, before he revealed the surprise he had found by the roadside.

“I brought you something.” He rummaged in his pocket under a curious red eye. When he held up his gift Tobirama’s expression was almost comical in its enthusiasm, especially considering its usual lack of one.

“You didn’t have to,” the younger man murmured faintly. Even so the bag had disappeared from Madara’s hand before the first word had even been spoken and he was happily munching on one of them almost before the final word had finished. Madara chuckled.

“Ah, should I have brought you some other fruit then?”

Tobirama scoffed. “There’s no such thing as other fruit. Was a sacrilegious suggestion.”

After that there was no further talking from him, too distracted was he by the precious berries in his grasp. Madara didn’t bother to hide his smug smile, nor his amusement at the flabbergasted reactions of his teammates. They were watching Tobirama with a mixture of awe, surprise, and a healthy dose of fear. Having Madara as a clan head was scary enough. To have his soulmate turn out to be Tobirama of all people – well, the idea of the havoc the two of them could wreak together must have been terrifying. He loved that.

Tobirama accompanied them to the Tower and waited while they gave their report, munching away on his blueberries to the obvious amusement of his older brother. Hashirama gave Madara a questioning look which he guiltlessly ignored. He didn’t have to explain himself to Tree Man. When their report was given and the reply of the clan head they had been speaking to was handed over to their curious Hokage, Tobirama walked with him again as he left the building, heading towards his home within the Uchiha district.

The first few times his soulmate had visited him here he had been followed each step by suspicious eyes. What could Senju Tobirama possibly need to be here for, on the land specifically set aside for the Uchiha clan? No one had said anything to his face or tried to refuse him entry but Tobirama had laughed wryly to Madara, asking if his people thought the sensor couldn’t tell that he was being followed. Since then he had become such a common sight in the area that people had stopped looking at him with suspicion and looked right past him as if he were any other citizen. It warmed something inside of Madara to see his clan accepting his soulmate even in such a small way.

It had been a few months since that first time that Tobirama agreed to spend the evening alone with him, eating a tense meal together and trading stilted conversation as they tried hard to find an even keel between them, solid ground to stand on after years of quietly sniping at each other at every opportunity. It hadn’t taken as long as he might have thought it would. Within six weeks they had built a bond unlike any other he had experienced before. When they weren’t fighting he was able to appreciate Tobirama’s intelligence and cutting wit. As the younger man relaxed he discovered it was easier than most would think to make him smile or even laugh. And he had an amazing laugh.

Tobirama’s most defining quality was his curiosity, though. It was what drove his experiments and what stirred him to consume book after endless book. It was his curiosity which inspired the night which Madara revisited most frequently in his memories; the night Tobirama asked to see his soul marks. It wasn’t until he was asked that Madara realized Tobirama had simply taken him on faith that they existed. It had been a little awkward, of course, but also incredibly intimate and he wouldn’t trade the memory for anything in the world.

He had disrobed slowly in the middle of his living room, the lights dim but neither of them desiring to brighten them. The near-darkness had given the impression of having the world to themselves. When his yukata had slid from his shoulders to leave him standing in his undergarments his cheeks had nearly caught fire with embarrassment. The only thing that kept him still was the look of wonder in Tobirama’s eyes, the way his fingers had reached out to touch as if he were unable to help himself. He had traced the depiction of a beaker on the top of Madara’s right arm with a faint smile.

“For science,” he had murmured half to himself.

Each of the marks on Madara’s back had been touched, explained. Then he had taken the older man’s wrists and drawn out his arms to gaze fondly at the swords branded there. The right was his very first blade, owned solely by him and not simply borrowed from the clan armory. The left was the blade he had earned in combat, a point of pride and a testament of his own skill. When he had knelt to brush fingertips against the first of the marks running down Madara’s leg he had done so with reverence in his eyes – and not a little mirth.  

Madara had stood still and silent for the entire inspection, even docilely allowing the younger man to lift his foot to look at the mark on the bottom of it. When it was placed back to the floor Tobirama had looked up at him, fingers still gently tracing the little blueberries which had been the catalyst which started their entire relationship – what ever it was.

“That’s only twelve,” he had said. “You told me there were fourteen.”

“And where do you suppose the other two are?” Madara had asked, the light smirk on his face clashing a bit with the returning blush. “I’m afraid you’ll have to, er, see those another day.” Tobirama hadn’t laughed at him. At least, not out loud. But his eyes had dropped to the undergarments preserving Madara’s modesty and the expression on his face had been a difficult mixture to read.

Madara couldn’t help but think of that night every time Tobirama visited his home, as he did today. The younger man followed him through his living room, both of them studiously avoiding saying anything as they proceeded towards the back of the house and out in to the backyard. There Madara led him to the massive cages where his hawks lived. He’d been pleasantly surprised when his soulmate had asked to join him, then enjoyed it enough to come back and join him again. Now it was an activity they made time for together.

The bird he flew the day was a peregrine falcon but the one Tobirama was most fond of was the hawk whose markings closely matched the pattern that decorated his own back. It was, in fact, a descendant of the very first hawk Madara had ever tamed, the one whose wings had actually inspired the soul mark. They took the birds up to the top of the mountain face that overlooked their village, sending them after wild prey while they discussed the council’s idea to carve Hashirama’s face in to rock below their feet. It was peaceful up here, just the two of them and the fierce loyal birds that answered their call.

“Izuna informed me last night that I have, and I quote, ‘less of a stick up my ass lately’ and he blames you. I’m mostly sure that he meant it as a compliment of some sort.” Madara shook the hair out of his face, sighing as it immediately fell back over one eye. Tobirama liked to jokingly suggest he start using hair pins and he was honestly starting to think about it.

“I will gladly take the blame for that,” Tobirama answered. When he looked over the younger man was facing away from him, looking over the village, but he could see the quietly pleased expression on his features.

Madara watched him silently for a minute, aware he was being obvious but not minding being caught. Then he said, “Have dinner with me tonight.”

“Was that a request or a demand?” Tobirama asked lightly, clearly not really offended.

“A demand, of course.” Madara smirked. “I’m rather important, I can make demands like that.” He triumphed in the smile that flickered across Tobirama’s face. Each time he made this seemingly stoic man smile felt like a precious victory.

“You’re certainly important to some of us, yes.”

The smirk fell from his face, replaced with a soft astonishment. Neither of them were the type for blatantly declaring their feelings for those around them, more given to gestures rather than words. He felt he could be forgiven his shock at hearing Tobirama saying something so openly like that. In his mind it was probably dangerously close to a declaration of love. Alright, maybe that was taking it a bit far, but still. Madara felt about ten stories tall right then, like he could take on every shinobi in the world all at once and win. His soulmate just had that effect on him.

Their conversation turned back to the topic they had been debating: bets on whether Hashirama’s giant stone face would look impressive or just plain stupid. Tobirama seemed to only be defending the idea of it looking impressive because he knew Madara thought it was silly and enjoyed riling him up. Just because they got along now didn’t mean they stopped seeking enjoyment in each other’s frustration. Both of them were stubborn men who enjoyed a good verbal spar just as much as a physical one.

Madara let himself be drawn in to the argument with little resistance, complaining about what an idiotic idea it was to have Hashirama’s ugly mug staring down at them all day every day until his falcon returned with a rabbit caught in its talons. Tobirama’s hawk returned with one as well and he grinned.

“You never answered. Will you be staying for dinner tonight?” he asked, cutting right across Tobirama’s obviously sarcastic comment about how his brother’s noble nose would surely look good when carved in to rock.

“Let me guess, rabbit stew?” the younger man asked, stroking the wings of his hawk and murmuring his thanks to the fierce bird of prey.

“Mm. I’ve some mushrooms that were picked only yesterday and I believe I still have some of the carrots Elder Chiyo gifted me. With the gifts these two have brought us I think a good thick stew would serve us well don’t you?”

Tobirama smiled, fiddling with the jess on the hawk’s leg. “I would love to stay for dinner,” he said. There was a warmth in his voice that had Madara turning away to hide the heat rising in his cheeks. It wasn’t as if anything particularly intimate had been said but that _tone_. It never failed to embarrass Madara with how fond it made the younger man sound when he used it, as if he couldn’t conceive of wanting to be anywhere else.

They returned to his house together at a leisurely pace. After caring for the birds and giving a bit of attention to the others he had in his small aviary they carried the rabbit corpses to the backyard porch. There was no point in bringing them inside yet as they hadn’t been skinned. Tobirama offered to take care of that chore while Madara began the rest of their dinner.

An hour later and they were both well fed and comfortably ensconced on Madara’s living room couch. They sat close enough together that an observer might have trouble separating one from the other, though each was happily buried in separate books. To be honest Madara was mostly pretending to read, however. He kept his eyes on the pages in his lap, making sure to turn them every so often, but most of his attention was on the warmth on the man beside him. He was hyper-aware of every point of contact. Their arms pressed firmly together from shoulder to elbow, books resting cover to cover. Their thighs were pressed together from hip to knee and Tobirama had hooked his left foot behind Madara’s right ankle almost casually, as if he didn’t really realize he was doing it.

It seemed as if every day they spent time alone together they became more and more tactile. Where before there had been an unspoken barrier of at least two feet between them at all times, now they couldn’t seem to go more than twenty minutes without finding an excuse for physical contact. When they were sitting they were nearly in each other’s laps, when they were standing they almost occupied the same footsteps, when they passed each other in the Tower during the day absent fingers always seemed to reach out, brushing the back of a hand or pulling the cuff of a sleeve. Yet, it never seemed to be enough. He always craved more.

Madara stiffened and his wandering thoughts flew out the proverbial window as Tobirama’s foot twitched, rubbing gently against the back of his ankle. He sat still, barely breathing, and waited to see if it was an accident. He was probably just shifting to a more comfortable position.

His heartbeat took off like a galloping horse when that foot moved again, deliberately rubbing up and down in a lazy pattern, stroking where his skin was normally covered by wrappings but was currently exposed to the air. It was just an _ankle_. It wasn’t as if Tobirama were doing something inappropriate so there was no reason for his actions to seem so…so…even inside his own mind Madara could barely whisper the word _erotic_.

He nearly had a heart attack when suddenly a hand rested itself on the top of his leg and an involuntary shudder ran through his entire body when the thumb of that hand stroked him gently, like Tobirama wasn’t paying attention to his own limbs and didn’t even realize he was doing it. The thumb rubbed back and forth along the outside of his thigh, slow and rhythmic. He closed his eyes and fought hard to continue breathing. He didn’t want Tobirama to notice his strange reactions to what were surely innocent gestures.

Madara’s eyes widened. Tobirama not notice? Of course he would notice. They were practically sitting on top of each other! There was absolutely no way that the younger man hadn’t noticed Madara’s jumping and freezing and shivering and generally being a twitchy idiot. And if he had noticed but not said anything then that meant…

A sideways glance told him everything he needed to know. Tobirama was watching him out of the corner of his eye, his book held in place but long forgotten and an unapologetic smirk on his face. That little shit knew exactly what he was doing and he knew exactly how it was affecting Madara. It was all on purpose!

“You are an assho-ah!” His words were cut off before he could properly get the insult out, distracted as he was by the sudden squeeze of his thigh.

“You could ask me to leave,” Tobirama teased in a low voice, turning his torso so they were facing each other. Madara blinked at him.

“Don’t go,” he blurted.

Tobirama cocked his head and he seemed to be searching Madara’s face for something. He must have found it because he smiled before slowly leaning forward, giving Madara every chance to ask him to stop.

Their first kiss was slow, lips gently caressing each other, noses bumping, and Madara chuckling self-consciously. The second was deep, tongues exploring and bodies shifting closer. By the time they pulled apart Madara found himself gasping for air and craving the taste of Tobirama like a drug. He growled when his soulmate moved away from him and stood up but the pale man only laughed at him and reached out a hand for him to take.

Tobirama kissed him again the moment he was standing and it was like puzzle pieces falling in to place. He groaned in to it, allowing himself to be steered away from the couch and down the hall with stumbling steps. His hands found Tobirama’s waist and wandered up the back of his shirt, smirking when the man twitched under his touch and pushed him to walk faster.

He didn’t bother to waste time questioning how Tobirama knew which room was his bedroom, just allowed himself to get lost in their kisses until the back of his knees bumped up against the mattress. He drew his hands upwards, pushing Tobirama’s shirt up and over his head, more thankful than he could say that they had both removed their armor before eating dinner. His head ducked down to suck and nibble at the new skin exposed to him, giving special attention to Tobirama’s clavicle when it earned him a quiet gasp. He could feel fingers pulling at the edges of his own shirt as Tobirama tried to take it off but was apparently too distracted to coordinate a proper effort.

Finally he stopped and tugged it off himself. He had half a second to register sudden movement before Tobirama tackled him down in to the bed, knocking his coverlet askew. His competitive nature reared its head and before he could think the better of it he was wrestling Tobirama, each trying to force the other down with smirks on their faces and sweat on their brows.

He felt a surge of triumph when finally he managed to roll Tobirama on to his belly and sit astride the back of his thighs, pinning both of his wrists with a hand each.

“Trying to get away?” he mused. “You’re the one who started it, you know.”

From this position Tobirama’s soul mark was on beautiful display just for him and he couldn’t resist leaning down and tracing the edges of it with his tongue. The pale skin that shivered under him tasted like salt and felt smooth as silk, the way he’d thought it would. His soulmate was one of the strongest shinobi alive and it showed in the lack of scars on his body, leaving him perfectly smooth from waist to shoulders.

Tobirama turned his head to look at Madara above him. With his hands gripping the sheets underneath him and a slight flush on his cheeks he looked like something straight out of a naughty dream. The Uchiha felt his cock twitch at the picture underneath him.

“You have red silk sheets? You are a walking cliché.” Tobirama accompanied his words with a challenging smirk, the one that Madara knew from their sparring sessions. It said he had something up his sleeve that he didn’t expect his opponent to see coming. “And who said I was trying to get away?”

[ ](http://redhothollyberries.tumblr.com/post/161850190609/gift-for-the-awesome-raendown-and-her-madatobi)

In a flash he had twisted one of his wrists free and brought it to the other to make a seal. Then suddenly he was gone; Madara fell forward as the body underneath him disappeared. He grunted in surprise when he was pushed from behind and in less than ten seconds he had found himself in exactly the opposite position from where he had been. Confused, he looked over his shoulder to find Tobirama there, perched on his backside with a smug look and a raised brow.

“I…what?” Tobirama’s weight on top of him was grinding his hips down in to the mattress, distracting him and making it very hard for him to catch up with what was happening.

“If you move I’m going to be very upset with you,” he heard his soulmate say. He gulped and dropped his head to the mattress as he felt Tobirama crawling down his body.

Fingers slipped under his waistband and Madara’s hands fisted where Tobirama’s had been mere moments ago. His cheeks burned but he shifted to allow his trousers to be removed, his underwear following to leave him naked and spread out face down, unable to see his partner’s face for a reaction. He waited in anxious anticipation, nearly jumping in fright when he felt something brush against the sole of his foot. Just as the thought crossed his mind _the water mark_ he felt the appendage being lifted and, to his great surprise, a kiss being pressed to the spot.

“A cresting wave,” Tobirama murmured in to his skin, “for my love of water and all its uses.”

His foot was lowered, a kiss pressed to the back of his ankle in the exact same spot that he had been teased with earlier.

“Blueberries, because I stand by my opinion that there’s no such thing as other fruit.”

Madara snorted in to the pillow, his chuckles lasting only so long as it took Tobirama to lean a little bit higher. The younger man crawled upward, inch by inch, stopping to press four kisses to the marks shaped like four different books that ran up the outside of Madara’s right leg.

“History, learning, research, and the simple delight of reading. I should have thought these were obvious.”

“Hmph. I just thought you had four different favorite books.”

Tobirama chuckled at him. The sound turned in to outright laughter a moment later. Madara blinked, wondering what he had done to amuse when suddenly a kiss was pressed right to the center of one of his ass cheeks.

“What an _intriguing_ placement for this one,” his soulmate chortled. "The hand sign Inu, for my love of jutsu creation. And of course it must be a water seal.”

Deviating from his pattern, he placed a second kiss on that mark. Madara huffed and squirmed, embarrassed to have such attention given to that area. The next kiss was placed at the base of his spine on the largest of all fourteen marks.

“A tree, for my family.”

While one hand stroked softly up Madara’s side in a rather distracting manner, Tobirama laid a kiss just between his shoulder blades.

“Now this one I find interesting. It’s only their shadows and yet the impression is of children holding hands, for my love of children and teaching the younger generations.”

Madara squirmed as the hand travelled back down his side, passing over his hip to stroke just a few inches down his thigh. His muscles clenched when it fondled his rear on the journey back up. He could feel the smile on Tobirama’s lips as he laid his last kiss on the nape of the older man’s neck.

“A leaf inside a flame. My, I wonder what this could represent.”

Tobirama’s hand returned to his hip, gripping and pulling in a manner that Madara understood meant he was being asked to roll over. He hesitated briefly; he was hard from their kisses and from the attention he was being given. But then, Tobirama was the one who had stripped off his clothing so he supposed his partner probably wouldn’t be _too_ surprised to see his state.

It was a bit awkward shuffling around to get on his back when Tobirama didn’t bother to get off of him first, only stood up on his knees to allow some room for movement. Once he was halfway around Madara flopped down on his back with little grace, his brain threatening to leak out his ears at the sight that greeted him. When had Tobirama taken off his own pants!? His soulmate leered at him, leaning down for a slow, deep kiss that had his head spinning immediately. Then those lips left his own to travel along his jaw and down his neck, stopping to press a kiss to the top of his arm.

“A beaker, for my love of science in all its forms.”

Madara groaned. “Are we still playing this game?” he whined. “There are much more interesting things we could be doing right now. Things I am certain we are both thinking of.” He could feel Tobirama’s cock brushing against him as it swayed with the younger man’s movements, as heavy and full as his own was. It made his eyelids flutter shut while he bit his lip to keep in whatever embarrassing sounds were trying to come out.

Tobirama tsked him as he stopped crawling backwards, sitting upright over top of Madara’s thighs. He took each of the older man’s hands in his own and extended his arms, pressing a kiss to the swords on each forearm and then to the back of each hand.

“You don’t think this is fun? I’m more than certain I can change your mind. Patience will be rewarded, Uchiha-sama.” Tobirama smirked as Madara’s lips parted. Using that name in this situation – was Tobirama suggesting dominance play?

He might have been, just to be a tease, but if so it was obviously a suggestion for another time. At the moment the Senju had his own agenda and he seemed determined to see it through. Madara swallowed any further protest as his hands were released and Tobirama slithered backwards until he was straddled over Madara’s knees and leaning down to press his lips against a restless hip.

“The outline of a snow leopard, because I care very deeply for my summons even if I don’t call for them very often.” His tongue darted out to taste the mark the same way Madara had done to him before. “I think that’s all of them, yes?”

Before Madara had a chance to answer he had the breath stolen from him as Tobirama’s mouth ventured inwards, licking and sucking along the way until he was hovering less than an inch away from Madara’s center, nibbling oh so softly on the crease of his groin. Madara arched up and a whine escaped him. Tobirama huffed one last laugh at his eagerness before he turned his head and lapped at the tip of Madara’s cock, humming at the taste of his pre-come then letting it slide past his lips.

The whine became a drawn out moan as wet heat enveloped him and Madara suddenly couldn’t recall how his lungs were supposed to function. Tobirama bobbed slowly down and back up his length and it was the single sweetest bliss he had ever experienced. The warmth, the teasing touch of a tongue, the light suction – he was hard pressed not to ruin everything by coming right there and then. He’d never felt anything like this. His eyes rolled back in his head when Tobirama took him in as far as he could and hummed deep in his throat.

“Fuck – don’t – I’ll – oh god!” Madara babbled brokenly, unable to make a coherent sentence. He reached down to grip his partner’s shoulder and push against it slightly, trying to tell him that it was too much, too good, _too soon_.

Tobirama slowly dragged himself up off Madara’s cock with a smirk. He leaned down just a little further to lick a stripe up the older man’s balls before crawling upwards, attacking his chest with kisses and small bites.

“Spoil sport,” he murmured. Madara huffed.

“It’s hardly my fault you insist at being good at everything you do.”

Tobirama rewarded him with a brilliant smile edged with a quiet pride. His second reward was a lengthy kiss while the younger man reached out a hand and rummaged around beside the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for lube, dunderhead, where do you keep yours?”

He hadn’t known it was possible to choke on your own tongue when you weren’t even saying anything but Madara was used to learning new things from Tobirama by now. What he was not used to was being asked a question like that in such a casual tone. He stared at Tobirama, who looked back at him with an expectant look on his face and impatience in his eyes.

With a shaking hand, Madara reached under the pillow beneath his head and pulled out a mostly full tube of clear gel. It was snatched from his fingers in a flash, a quick kiss pressed to his lips as thanks before Tobirama ground their hips together and lowered his head to whisper in Madara’s ear.

“Do you have a preference for how we do this? Would you like me inside you, filling you, pounding inside you until you’re screaming my name?” Madara whimpered and Tobirama nipped his ear in rebuke before continuing. “Or would you prefer to be inside me? To slide deep inside me, to feel me clenching around your cock while I ride you?”

Madara was pretty sure his bones had all melted. Where Tobirama got the confidence for that kind of talk was beyond him. He would feel mortified saying things like that himself but coming from this man it sounded incredibly sexy. It was all he could do to gasp out, “You – inside you!” He was sure his face was as red as it had ever been and his eyes squeezed shut as if that could save him from his embarrassment.

“Hmm, as you like. But you know, either way–” Tobirama traced the shell of his ear and pressed a kiss to his cheek “–you’re still going to scream for me.”

With that, the younger man sat up and Madara peeked out of one eye to see him popping open the tube he had snatched up. He squeezed a fair amount on to his own fingers before reaching behind his own back, ostensibly inserting them inside himself to stretch his hole and prepare the way for his new lover. Madara watching him with wide eyes, hands half reaching out but unsure of where he wanted to touch first. By the _gods_ he wished he could see what was going on behind Tobirama. He wanted to watch slick fingers opening him up, to feel the muscles slowly giving way before him. In the back of his mind he made a mental note to demand that he be allowed to take care of this next time.

Eventually he managed to pull himself together enough to stroke both hands up the insides of Tobirama’s thighs, massaging small circles with his thumbs until he had ventured high enough to cup the man’s testicles, rolling them in one palm while the other reaching up to pinch at a pale nipple already tight with excitement. He was delighted to see Tobirama’s head tilt backwards, his eyes half lidding with pleasure. He pinched harder at the same time as his other hand gave a gentle squeeze, earning a very small hiss, Tobirama’s hips reflexively rutting forward into the attention.

Mere seconds later Tobirama brought his hand forward to bat Madara’s away from his nether regions. He shuffled around until he was perched right over Madara’s cock, making eye contact before slowly sinking down on to it.

They both moaned in unison at the feeling, Madara for the tightness gripping his cockhead and Tobirama for the feeling of being stretched so wide, Madara was a lot bigger than a couple of fingers. The younger man breathed harshly through his nose as he made slow circles, acclimatizing himself to the feeling before lowering himself another inch.

Madara gave up on the idea that his lungs would ever function properly again. He gripped Tobirama’s thighs tightly, not wanting to take hold of his hips and stop him from doing what he needed to do to be comfortable. His eyes were trying to fall closed but he fought against the urge. The pleasure was nearly overwhelming but the vision above him – _oh_. It was a sight far beyond anything his imagination could have given him. Tobirama was resplendent in all his naked glory with a flush on his cheeks, taking his pleasure with no apologies.

Finally Tobirama was fully seated, his whole body singing with pleasure and absolute _rightness_. This, this was where he belonged. This was who he belonged to. He gave body mind and soul to this man freely and he felt magnificently complete in doing so. With a sigh he lifted his body upwards until he could feel the head of Madara’s cock pulling at the ring of his entrance. Then he rocked back down, jolting them together and tearing a shocked cry from his own lips when his prostate was impacted. He lifted himself again and set a punishing rhythm, snapping his hips up and down and undulating with the motions, searching for that perfect angle again.

Madara could feel words pressing up behind his teeth and he gnashed them together, trying to hold it in. It worked only until Tobirama came down on him with a particularly wild thrust.

“Fuck!” He writhed, his hips rising to meeting his soulmate’s each time and drawing animalistic noises from both of them. “Fuck, Tobirama,” he panted. “You feel – oh sweet sage you’re amazing.” The floodgates had opened and he heard all sorts of drivel come pouring out, praising his partner’s skill, his body, the way he moved. Tobirama growled and came down on him faster, his eyes catching Madara’s own and holding his gaze captive.

“You belong to me.”

Madara whimpered again. “Yes,” he gasped.

“Say it.”

“Fuck – I belong to you, only you, I’m yours!”

Tobirama moaned above him, grabbing his hand and pulling it towards his own cock which had gone ignored up until now, bobbing with every thrust.  Madara wrapped his fingers around the swollen organ, letting his partner thrust in to his fist with every upward motion.

Feeling Tobirama suddenly clamp down around him was absolute and utter bliss and yet it was nothing compared to watching the man toss his head back and cry out Madara’s name as he fell apart under Madara’s touch. They came at almost the exact same moment, Madara spasming and screaming things he could not even pay attention to – his soulmate’s name over and over mixed up with garbled profanity. He spilled himself inside of Tobirama just as pearly strings of cum shot out over his fist, painting Tobirama’s belly and thighs in to the very picture of obscenity.

His lover rode him through their mutual orgasm until he could go on no longer and his body collapsed downwards to drape over Madara’s chest. Madara caught him and held him tightly, head tilted back to gasp for air. The two of them lay still for a long time and basked in the afterglow from the culmination of months of careful courtship, happy and sated, each smiling to themselves where the other couldn’t see.

“I told you that I would make you scream,” Tobirama murmured eventually. Madara’s smile fell as he stared at the ceiling in shock.

“Asshole!” he spluttered. Tobirama laughed at him before pushing himself up on to his shaking arms, lifting their hips apart and grimacing as Madara’s seed immediately started dribbling down the inside of his thighs. “Let me get you something to clean that with.”

Madara waited until the younger man was comfortably rolled off of him before standing, nearly falling to the floor when he set his weight on legs that felt like jelly. He managed to stumble his way to the bathroom, fetch a damp cloth, and wobble his way back. Then he flopped back down on to the sheets and handed over the cloth, watching with rapt attention as Tobirama cleaned himself. He wondered if maybe next time he could be allowed to clean it up with his tongue.

As soon as cleanup was done the towel was tossed aside and Madara found himself being pushed on to his back. Tobirama curled in to his side and rested a head on his chest, legs thrown over top of his own and a hand resting possessively on his sternum.

“Oh, is it time to sleep now?” he asked with a little sarcasm and a lot of fondness. Tobirama ignored both and snuggled closer.

“Hn,” was all he said.

Madara laughed, closing his eyes and wrapping both arms around Tobirama’s shoulders. Sleep sounded good to him anyway. There was no place he would rather be in the world at this moment than right here with his soulmate.

He fell asleep tracing the feathers depicted on Tobirama’s back.

He woke up the next morning to find that they had somehow changed positions. His face was buried in the younger man’s neck and his body was half draped across a pale torso. Madara snorted and shoved his hair out of his eyes, looking up and smiling softly. Tobirama was still fast asleep, his face lax but his brows twitching as he dreamed.

Madara was glad for the change of positions as it made it easier to slip out of the bed without waking his partner. He eased himself up and fetched the cloth that still lay in the corner, bringing it back to the bathroom with him. He relieved himself then washed his hands, yawning. As he dried them and turned towards the door he caught sight of himself in the mirror. The image there stopped him in his tracks and sent him a couple steps backwards as he returned to the mirror, leaning closer while throwing out a hand to crank up the dimmer switch and give him a bit more light.

Well. That hadn’t been there when he had gone to sleep.

Where before his chest had been clear and unbroken skin he now sported what he immediately recognized as a brand new soul mark. A red heart filled with the outlines of black flame sat directly over where his own heart was suddenly thundering against his ribs. Madara brought up a hand to gently touch it, awed.

The meaning couldn’t possibly be more clear. A heart for love. Tobirama loved him and was passionate enough about that love to encourage a new soul mark to appear. Madara exhaled shakily, his throat feeling tight, and looked at the ridiculous smile that had just spread across his face. Only Tobirama could make him look so foolish without him minding. Only Tobirama could make him feel this happy, this complete.

He took one last long look in the mirror at his new mark before turning off the light and returning to the bedroom. He crawled back over the sheets and fitted himself up against Tobirama’s side, wondering if the man was even aware of what he had created in his sleep. He smiled into Tobirama’s pale, muscled chest as he closed his eyes and let himself slowly sink back down in to sleep.

Tobirama _loved him_. And Madara…Madara loved Tobirama just as much.

He could barely believe that such incredible happiness had come to him because of a tiny clutch of blueberries.


End file.
